


Parry and Riposte

by Linda18



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-26
Updated: 2000-01-26
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linda18/pseuds/Linda18
Summary: Fraser is accused of murder while taking part in a fencing competition.  Its up to Ray to find the real murderer.





	Parry and Riposte

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Fencing is a "hobby" of mine, and it occurred to me that it would probably be something that Fraser would be good at!

Due South and all of its characters are the property of Alliance Communications.

The other names I borrowed from friends for fun!

Views good or bad to

PARRY AND RIPOSTE

by Linda Hughes

Detective Ray Kowalski drew up outside the Canadian Consulate, carefully parking the GTO. He felt tired, but had promised to take Fraser out for a meal to celebrate the end of yet another successful case. He winced as he slid out of the car; his right side had been giving him some pain for a week or so. He slowly walked up the steps of the Consulate. 

Entering the hall, he saw Turnbull sitting at the reception desk ."Hiya. Is Fraser ready?"

The Mountie looked up. "Good evening Detective Vecchio. Inspector Thatcher and Constable Fraser are in a meeting at the moment. I'm sure he won't be long. Take a seat," Turnbull indicated a seat in the corner. 

Ray sighed, and sat down in the chair. "I just bet the Ice Queen will keep him behind especially if she knows we are going to dinner," he thought to himself. Having heard a familiar voice, Dief trotted out into the hall. Barking in delight, he jumped up putting his front paws on Ray's knees. "Hi Dief. How are you today? Ready for dinner?" he asked as stroked the wolf's soft head. Dief woofed in reply, laying down over Ray's feet.

Smiling Ray closed his eyes letting the tiredness wash over him. His side was really hurting now, and he shifted position slightly in an effort to ease the pain.

He hadn't notice Turnbull move from the desk, and started slightly as he spoke. "Do you want a glass of water or perhaps a nice cup of tea? It will be no trouble, I'm going to make myself a cup of herb tea," the Mountie offered.

Ray's head pounded and he felt very sick. "Ohh, no thanks Turnbull. I think I'll get a bit of fresh air," he murmured struggling to his feet. Disturbed Dief whined softly, but decided to follow his friend out of the Consulate.

**************

Fraser was only half listening to Inspector Thatcher explaining that the honour of the Consulate was at stake, and it was vital that he take part in the competition. He was thinking about dinner with his partner and Dief. He had been looking forward to it all day planning to leave work early, but Thatcher had caught up with him just as he was about to depart.

"Constable, have you been listening to a word I have been saying to you?" Thatcher demanded.

Startled out of his reverie, "Uh yes absolutely Inspector," he replied blushing.

"So you will compete for the honour of the Consulate?" she questioned.

Before he could answer, a scratching and whining sound came from behind him. Fraser looked nervously towards the door, and quickly back to the Inspector. 

Her face was red with anger. "Constable, I allow you and the... the wolf to live here, but I expect him to behave himself at all times," she spat.

"Understood Inspector," he replied moving quickly over to open the door slightly. "Dief be quiet," he scolded. Dief barked loudly and bounded over to the main entrance looking back expecting the Mountie to follow. When Fraser did not follow, the wolf howled, making Turnbull drop his cup of tea. Concerned Fraser stepped out of the office and moved towards the wolf. Dief barked again, turned and darted out of the Consulate with Fraser following. 

"Constable, where do you think you are going?" the Inspector yelled putting her hands on her hips. "Come back here this minute."

Ignoring her, Fraser followed Dief around the side of the Consulate, through the gate and into a small neatly laid out garden. Dief was sitting close to Ray, who was leaning over a small brick wall, which enclosed the Consulate rose garden. Fraser hurried over, "Ray, Ray. Are you alright?" he asked concerned putting his hand on his partner's shoulder.

Ray's t-shirt was soaked in sweat, and he clutched at his right side with his hand. He looked deathly pale, and he was breathing deeply.  Ray groaned, "Fraser. I don't... I don't feel so good. Sorry, I was sick over the roses, I couldna help it." 

"Don't worry about that now. Let's get you inside, and get you some help," Fraser went to gently pull his partner up.

Ray let out a scream dropping to his knees. "Fraser. Oh God Frase," Ray moaned pain etched on his thin face.

Fraser knelt beside his partner. "Don't move Ray. I'll ge...," he started.

He was interrupted by Inspector Thatcher yelling at him from the gate, "Constable, what an earth do you think you are doing?"

Fraser scowled to himself. "Detective Vecchio is ill, and in need of some assistance. Would you kindly call an ambulance?" he said calmly removing his tunic. He managed to lie Ray on his left side, covering him with the jacket. Sensing that Thatcher hadn't moved, "Now, Inspector, if you would be so kind." Ray was moaning lightly. "Don't move Ray. Help is on its way," he soothed clasping his partner's hand.

"Fraser, it hurts... it hurts so bad," Ray closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip.

Fraser squeezed his partner's hand, "I know. Hang on Ray. Just hang on."

**************

The ambulance eventually arrived, and despite the Inspector's loud protests Fraser insisted on travelling to the hospital with Ray. He had continued to hold Ray's hand tightly, speaking softly trying to comfort his friend. At the hospital, Fraser had been hustled into a small room, and told to wait. 

After waiting patiently for two hours, he became restless, and decided to find someone who could tell him how his friend was. He met Lieutenant Welsh as he was leaving the waiting room.

"Constable. Inspector Thatcher called me. How's Kowalski?" he asked gently pushing the Mountie back towards the chairs.

"Hello Lieutenant. I don't know. They said someone would come to see me, but I haven't seen anyone. I was just about to go and find a doctor ," Fraser answered slumping back onto one of the chairs.

Welsh studied the Mountie for a moment, "Try not to worry Constable." 

"But... but he was in such pain," Fraser choked turning to look at Welsh tears glinting in his eyes.

Kowalski's one tough little bastard. He'll be OK," the Lieutenant comforted putting his hand on Fraser's shoulder.

Both men looked up as the door opened; a tall dark haired man ambled in wearing a white coat with a clipboard under his arm. "Constable Fraser, I'm Doctor Stephen," he directed his comments at Fraser.

Fraser stood up anxious. "How is Detective Vecchio?" 

"He's in Recovery at the moment," the doctor started to say, but Lieutenant Welsh got to his feet holding his hand up.

"Whoa there Doc., what do you mean he's in Recovery? What's going on?"the Lieutenant demanded.

Doctor Stephen looked momentarily confused. "Hasn't anyone been to see you?"

"No," Fraser replied quietly. 

"Oh dear, someone should have come to see you. Detective Vecchio suffered a burst appendix." He caught the worried look on the Mountie's face, and quickly added, "Oh don't worry, he came through the surgery very well. 

We'll be keeping him in for a few days. If all goes well, he can go home at the weekend. However, he won't be going back to work for at least a month."

Fraser sighed in relief. "Can I see him?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, of course as soon as he's settled. I'll get a nurse to come and get you," the doctor promised as he left the waiting room.

**************

Fraser carefully parked the GTO in the hospital car-park. He locked the car and walked into the hospital to collect his friend. A wound infection had kept Ray in the hospital for two weeks, and would keep him off work for more than the promised month. Fraser entered the hospital, smiling as he saw his partner waiting for him, bag at his feet, in the reception area. 

"Good morning Ray. I see you are eager to leave," he teased.

Ray leapt to his feet, and Fraser noticed that he winced at the effort putting his hand to his right side. "Sure am Frase. Fed up of them trying to make me eat healthy," his partner replied. "Cmon, take me home."

Despite his partner's protests, Fraser picked up the bag. "Right you are. How are you feeling today?" he enquired.

"I'm good. I'm good to go," Ray responded walking towards the doors. 

Fraser had noted with some concern that his partner still looked pale and tired, and he still held his hand to his side. Fraser drove back to Ray's apartment taking care, as usual, not to exceed the speed limit. 

Once inside the apartment, Fraser settled Ray onto the couch with his feet up, a blanket tucked around him, and Dief snuggled on his legs. He went into the kitchen to make them some coffee. "Are you hungry Ray? I've stocked your refrigerator," he asked as he set the coffee mugs on the table.

"Uhhh, bet it's full of healthy stuff," Ray wrinkled his nose absently stroking Dief's ears.

Fraser grinned, "Well, yes I'm afraid it is. I couldn't help myself."

Ray giggled, clutching his right side, "Oh Frase don't make me laugh, it hurts when I laugh." He turned his blue eyes on his partner. "Thanks Fraser. I mean thanks for everything. Yer don't have to stay, I know you're busy at the Consulate. I'll be OK, even with the healthy refrigerator."

Fraser looked at his partner, "Well actually, I'm on leave as of today. I will be going to Toronto at the weekend." 

Ray looked down fiddling with the blanket, hoping that his disappointment wouldn't show. "How long will you be away for?" he asked not looking at his partner.

"Two weeks. I am taking part in the annual R.C.M.P. fencing competition," Fraser announced.

"Whadya want to go and put fences up in Toronto for?" Ray looked up confused.

Fraser smiled, "Oh Ray, not that type of fencing. The foil and epee type fencing." 

"Oh like Zorro or Errol Flynn," Ray teased.

Fraser sipped his coffee. "Well no Ray, not really. It is, however, a tradition of this particular competition for the fencers to be accompanied by a second. As you're on sick leave and you're my best friend, I would like you to come to Toronto with me."

Ray considered for a moment. Toronto was full of polite people like Fraser, and it was so clean. Hell what had he got to lose: he had two choices, be alone in the apartment, or with Fraser in Toronto.

Mind made up. "Yeh, I'd like to be your second. Thanks Frase," he answered.

Fraser's face lit up. "There will be plenty of time for you to rest and get better. Then we could spend a week sightseeing, if you like," Fraser said excitedly.

"Yeh Frase, that'll be great," Ray grinned back.

Ray had slept for most of the short flight to Lester B. Pearson airport in Toronto, and he was now sitting waiting for Fraser, who had gone to fetch their bags. The Mountie strode towards him easily carrying their two holdalls, plus his large fencing equipment bag. 

"Hey Frase, do you remember the last time we were here? You know the Chantel Beaumont case," Ray asked Fraser as he put the bags down. 

"Yes Ray I do. I seem to remember you had trouble understanding why the announcements are made in both English and French. I also seem to remember that we never did get you that copy of the Royal Commission's Report on the Official Bi-Lingualism," Fraser grinned at his partner.

Ray favoured him with a dirty look. "Oh very funny Frase, very funny."

Grinning, Fraser lead Ray out of the airport to the taxi rank. Ray stared out of the window during the journey to their hotel, the Royal Meridien King Edward. He just could not believe how clean the city was; he felt homesick for the familiar streets of Chicago. 

Once in their hotel room, Ray slumped onto one of the beds closing his eyes. Fraser had gone to telephone the R.C.M.P. Headquarters to let them know that they had arrived, and Turnbull to enquire if Dief was behaving himself. He felt tired, his side had started to hurt, but he didn't want to spoil Fraser's leave so he kept quiet.

Fraser entered the room. "We're all checked in. The competition starts tomorrow. First there is a dinner tonight for all the contestants and their guests," he said rather too brightly.

Ray noted the tone and sat up, wincing slightly. "Hey that'll be great Frase," he tried to sound convincing.

"Ray, you don't have to come if you don't feel up to it. You look a little pale. Are you alright?" Fraser asked concerned.

"Nah, I'm good, really I am. Don't fuss OK. Is Dief behaving himself?" Ray changed the subject.

"Yes Turnbull said he was behaving himself, but that he misses you feeding him doughnuts every day," Fraser answered shuffling his feet.

Ray glanced at his partner. "Guess it's kinda strange for you to be... you know to be among lots of other Mounties."

Fraser looked uncomfortable. "No..... Well yes it is. Some of them have long memories. They can't forgive me for turning in Chief Superintendent Gerrard."

"But he murdered your father. Mountie or not murder is murder, and you were right to turn him in," Ray cried genuine surprise in his voice.

"Yes I suppose you're right," Fraser quietly murmured.

Ray regarded Fraser for a moment. "What time's dinner, and do I have to wear a tie?" he asked.

Fraser smiled warmly at his friend. "Thank you kindly Ray. And yes I am afraid you will have to wear a tie."

**************

When the partners arrived at the Toronto Headquarters of the R.C.M.P., the pre-dinner drinks reception was well under way. As they entered the hall, Ray sensing Fraser's nervousness whispered, "It's OK Benton buddy. I'll kick em in the head if they try anything."

Fraser relaxed, "I don't think that will be necessary. But thank you for the kind offer."

"Ah Constable Fraser. How are you keeping?" a small distinguished looking Mountie came towards the partners, taking Fraser's hand and shaking it.

"I'm very well Superintendent Winter. This is my partner Detective Ray Vecchio from Chicago," Fraser indicated Ray.

The superintendent shook Ray's hand. "Welcome to Canada Detective. I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

"Uhh, thanks. Looking forward to it," Ray smiled.

"Ben, Ben, Ben. Over here," a voice shouted over the crowd. A tall muscular man with a shock of red hair approached the partners smiling broadly. "Ben, you made it," he said slapping Fraser hard on the back. "This competition just got really interesting. You're going give Lindsay a run for his money."

Fraser beamed at the Mountie. "Hello Michael. How are you?" Fraser turned to Ray. "This is Constable Michael Gordon. We were at the Academy together," he explained. Ray nodded shaking the Mountie's offered hand.

Draping his arm around Fraser's shoulder. "Pleased to meet you Ray. Ben here beat me at everything and anything. Top of the class everytime. We were even partners for a short time after we left the Academy." Fraser nodded beaming; Ray had never seen his partner looking so happy. Michael ushered the partners towards the dining room. "Come on, we'll sit together at dinner, and bore Ray to death talking about the good old times."

Just as they were leaving the hall, two Mounties in dress uniform blocked the way. The taller of the two with fair receding hair snarled, "So you decided to show your face Fraser. Didn't think you would have the guts."

"Good evening Corporal Lindsay. Corporal Kennett," Fraser nodded politely to the two men. 

Corporal Lindsay scowled. "You put my uncle behind bars. My mother still has nightmares about her brother, and it's your fault," he poked Fraser in the chest.

Fraser didn't flinch, continuing to look calmly at the Mountie. "I have nothing to be ashamed of Corporal Lindsay. I am sorry about your mother, but Gerrard murdered my father. He belongs in prison."

"You're a coward. You always were, and you always will be. Hiding away in a filthy place like Chicago. You're a disgrace to the uniform," Lindsay growled. 

Corporal Kennett glanced sideways at Lindsay. "Yellow just like his father."

Corporal Lindsay laughed. "Like father, like son."

Ray stepped in front of Fraser, who remained motionless staring at the two men. Ray pointed a finger at the two Corporals. "Hey bozos that's my city you're talking about, and it aint filthy. And Fraser aint a coward, he's one of the bravest men I know. No-one insults my city or my friend and gets away with it," Ray snapped angrily prepared to take on the two larger men single-handed.

Michael intervened stepping between Ray and the two Mounties, "Hey Nick, let it go. We don't want any trouble. Why don't you and Scott keep away from us, and we'll keep away from you. OK?" Without waiting for an answer, he quickly guided Ray and Fraser around the two Corporals and into the dining room.

As Fraser passed, Corporal Lindsay sneered, "You're dirt, and it doesn't end here. I'll see you later traitor." Corporal Kennett sniggered. Hearing the comment, Ray stopped and turned, but Fraser pulled him away before he could kick both of the Corporals in the head.

**************

Ray still felt tired, and had to admit to himself that his right side was still giving him some pain. However, despite his initial reservations, he was enjoying himself finding the fencing fascinating; it seemed so graceful yet aggressive. Fraser had tried to explain the rules to him over dinner one evening, but had given up when Ray insisted on teasing him about Zorro, leaping up on tables, and slicing candles in half. Smiling at the memory, he knew he would be able to tease Fraser some more. 

The preliminary heats were over, and Fraser competing in the epee contest had easily won his way through to the quarter finals. During the morning, Fraser had broken his favourite epee's blade in a particularly hard fought bout. Fraser had swopped swords, but feeling uncomfortable had now gone to the locker room to repair his favourite weapon. Ray was sitting watching Corporal Kennett compete for a place in the quarter finals. 

Corporals Lindsay and Kennett hadn't caused any further trouble, and Ray hoped for Fraser's sake that they kept away. His attention was drawn back to the match as the President awarded a hit against Kennett. At a signal from the President, the two Mounties continued to advance and retire along the piste, their swords clashing as each man endeavoured to parry a hit from their opponent. The heavy set Mountie was easily out-classed by the much smaller officer.

The Corporal misjudged a beat attack, and the smaller man lunged forward scoring the winning hit. Both men removed their helmets shaking hands. Ray smiled to himself, "Serves him right. I must go and tell Fraser." Stretching his legs, he got up to go in search of his friend. He nodded a greeting to Michael as he made his way to the locker room. "Hey Frase, you in here?" he called as he walked up the aisles looking for his friend. He heard a low moaning noise coming from behind a row of lockers. Cautiously peering around the lockers, he saw Fraser sitting on the floor, his hand clasping the back of his head. "Fraser buddy. Are you OK? What the hell happened?" Ray cried kneeling beside his partner.

Fraser groaned, "I'm not entirely sure. I came to find my sword. Then something hit me from behind."

"Let me look," Ray insisted. He gently parted Fraser's hair squinting at his partner's head. "Skin's not broken. It's a lucky thing that you Mounties have hard heads. You're probably going to have one hell of a headache," he declared. He helped the Mountie to sit on a bench, and went to fetch a cold cloth. Rounding the corner, he stopped in his tracks fighting down the impulse to be violently sick. "Uhh Fraser. I think I've found your sword." 

Corporal Nick Lindsay was lying on his back in a growing pool of blood. His white fencing tunic was stained red, "Represents the Queen," Ray thought wildly. The Mountie's hands clutched at an epee which had been thrust into his stomach, his eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Ray carefully stepped closer trying to avoid treading in the blood. He knew the Corporal was dead, but he felt for a pulse anyway, just in case.

"Oh dear," he heard Fraser exclaim from behind him.

**************

Ray sat watching as the locker room filled with an investigating team reminding him of home, and all the murder investigations he had been part of. Fraser sat silently beside him. The partners watched as a trolley with a black body bag was wheeled past Michael who stopped to stare as he entered the room.

"Ben, I just heard," he said sitting down next to Fraser pushing Ray along the bench. Ray frowned but kept silent noticing how Michael seemed to be on edge. He had decided that he didn't like the Mountie, not being completely able to put his finger on what it was he disliked, but his instincts told him that something dangerous lurked beneath those brown eyes, obscured by a too easy smile.

"How are you holding up? Anything I can do Ben?" Michael asked fidgeting.

"No thank you Michael. I'm fine, and Ray is here. Inspector Farrell wants to ask me some questions. We're just waiting for her to finish up," Fraser answered.

Michael jumped up, his movements still nervy. "Look, I'll leave you my number in case you change your mind." He scribbled his telephone number on a piece of paper and pressed it into Fraser's hand. "Well, I'll see you later." he said moving quickly towards the door and disappearing. Ray stared after him wrinkling his brow in thought. 

Two women approached the partners. "Constable Fraser. Detective Vecchio. My name is Inspector Gillian Farrell, and this is Sergeant Joanne Woodhead. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I need to ask you a few questions, then you can go back to your hotel." 

Fraser stood up to address the woman. "Yes, of course Inspector, anything I can do to help."

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked.

Fraser closed his eyes in concentration. "Well I had broken my favourite sword. I had been using my second weapon. It didn't feel right so I came back here between bouts to repair my blade. It was missing from where I left it. Something hit me from behind, and the next thing I remember is Detective Vecchio kneeling beside me. That's it Inspector."

"Thank you. When did you last see Corporal Lindsay?" she asked absently flipping the pages in her notebook.

"This morning when we arrived for the day's events," Fraser replied.

"And you didn't see him again until your partner here discovered his body?" she enquired.

"No Inspector I did not," Fraser responded.

Sergeant Woodhead stepped forward. "Is this your glove Constable?" she asked handing him a plastic bag which contained a blood spattered fencing glove.

Fraser took the offered bag and studied the glove. "No Sergeant, this is a left handed glove, and I am right handed."

Sergeant Woodhead nodded producing a second larger plastic bag. "Is this your sword Constable?"

Fraser looked at the sword with its blood covered broken blade. "Yes Sergeant," he murmured softly.

"Did you see or hear anyone else in the locker room?" the Sergeant asked.

"No," Fraser answered. 

Inspector Farrell considered for a moment. "I understand that you and Corporal Lindsay had an argument on Sunday evening at the pre-competition dinner."

Unable to contain himself any longer, Ray jumped up angry. "No they didn't have an argument. Corporal Lindsay and his buddy called Fraser a coward, and they insulted his Dad. They were totally un-Mountie like."

The Inspector glared at Ray. "Detective, please sit down. You are not helping matters." Ray ignored her, and began to pace up and down. She turned her attention back to Fraser who was studying his feet. "Well Constable, I am waiting. Did you have a disagreement with Corporal Lindsay?"

"Well not a disagreement exactly. Corporal Lindsay hates me because his uncle is in jail, and he blames me. His uncle, Chief Superintendent Gerrard, murdered my father," he murmured.

"Mmmm, I see. Right that's all for now. You can go now. Please don't leave the hotel, I may need to speak to you again Constable," she declared turning her back, motioning to Sergeant Woodhead.

Fraser could still see the rage in his partner's blue eyes, and stuck his foot out as Ray started to follow the Inspector. Ray stumbled, and Fraser caught his arm steadying him before he fell to the floor. Ray snatched his arm away from Fraser, sucking in a deep breath and clutching his hand to his right side. Glaring at his partner, "Fraser, what the hell are you doing?"

Fraser looked at his partner guiltily. "I'm sorry Ray. I didn't realise your side still hurt." 

Ray bent double resting his hands on his knees. Peering up at his partner, he snapped, "It don't."

Fraser frowned, "Understood. Lets get back to the hotel." 

"But...," Ray started to say.

"No Ray, leave it." Fraser said firmly. Picking up his fencing equipment bag, he gently pushed his partner towards the door.

**************

Once inside their hotel room Ray sat down in one of the armchairs. His anger was threatening to choke him so he remained silent watching the Mountie neatly pack away his fencing gear.

"Shall I order room service, or do you want to eat in the hotel restaurant?" Fraser asked his back to his partner.

Ray leapt up, and started to pace around the room. "How can you eat? How can you be so calm about all this? Fraser they think you did it. They think you killed Corporal Lindsay," he shouted his anger spilling out.

"Ray, calm down. Shouting won't help. And you'll hurt your side again." Fraser tried to soothe his friend.

Ray stopped pacing glaring at his partner. "Stop it. Just stop it. Stop being the cool calm collected Mountie for once, and think about it from their point of view. It's your sword they found in the Corporal. You were alone in the locker room.

You don't have an alibi. You even have a motive. Who would ya suspect?" Ray shot back. 

"Yes, it does seem rather bleak at the moment," Fraser murmured sitting down on the bed.

Exasperated at his partner, Ray continued to rant, "Whad ya mean bleak? What kind of word is bleak? You dumb Mountie, you're helping them put you in jail. 

"No Ray, all I have done is to be truthful in my answers," Fraser stated firmly.

"At least let's go back to the locker room. Try and find some evidence to put you in the clear," Ray tried to persuade his partner. 

"No Ray. You have no jurisdiction in Canada. We just have to be patient and wait here until Inspector Farrell contacts us," Fraser said determined.

Ray turned on his partner, his blue eyes flashed with anger. "I told you before Fraser, I aint good at waiting. If you won't help yourself, I guess it's up to me to get you out of this mess. You just wait here for them to come and arrest you," he stormed towards the door, slamming it hard as he left.

"Oh dear," Fraser thought to himself.

Ray strode out of the hotel determined to go back to the R.C.M.P. Headquarters and get some answers to prove his friend innocent. "Stubborn, stupid Mountie," he thought to himself as he hailed a taxi. 

Paying the driver, he ran purposefully up the steps to the Headquarters. He made his way through the hall towards the back of the building, and the now darkened sports complex where the fencing competition had been taking place. The competition had been cancelled as a mark of respect. Deep in thought, Ray bumped into Michael, who was coming out of the locker room. The Mountie seemed startled, but quickly recovered, "Hello Ray."

"Uhhh, hello Michael. What you still doing here? Thought you'd be long gone." 

"What. Oh lost something. Ben with you?" Michael looked past Ray's shoulder.

"No. I left him at the hotel. Thought I'd come back here and poke about a bit. Try and find something to prove the stubborn Mountie innocent. You know use my detective powers and all that." Ray said.

"Mmmm. Sorry to hear about Ben," Michael muttered.

"Whad ya mean, sorry?" Ray asked confused.

"You know, the murder. I had to tell the Inspector about the argument. Looks very bad for Ben," Michael admitted. 

Ray gaped at Michael. "How can.... you think Fraser killed Lindsay? I thought he was your friend. He didn't do it, and I'm going to prove it even if it takes forever. I thought there was a Mountie code about protecting fellow officers through thick and thin."

"I didn't mean anything....," Michael started to protest.

"Guess friendship and partnership don't mean much in Canada either," Ray angrily pushed past him into the locker room. 

Michael narrowed his eyes staring after the detective. Shrugging he walked back to the reception, bumping into Corporal Kennett and two other officers who had just entered the building. "Hi Scott, just seen the yank back there," he pointed in the direction of the sports complex. Shaking his head, "Got some crazy idea in his head that Ben Fraser didn't kill Nick. Gone to find some proof."

"Oh really. Thanks Michael. Come on David. Simon. Let's go and see if we can offer some assistance," he grinned viciously.

**************

Ray walked up and down the aisles of the locker room until he came to the area that had been marked with white tape. Pushing down the memory of discovering the corporal lying in a pool of his own blood, he bent down. Putting on his glasses, on his glasses, he squinted at the floor hoping to find a clue that would prove Fraser's innocence. Absorbed in his search, he didn't hear the footsteps behind him. He got to his feet sighing, hooking his glasses into the top of his t-shirt. 

Turning to leave, he was confronted by Corporal Kennett and two other officers blocking his way. "What are you doing here Chicago trash?" the Corporal snarled.

Ray took a step back. "Lost a contact lens," he lied.

The Corporal moved towards Ray. "Nick was a good friend. He didn't deserve to die. Your friend is scum, and should be locked up for what he did."

"How many more times have I got to say it. Fraser didn't kill Corporal Lindsay, and I'm going to prove it," Ray snapped.

"Oh, you sure about that. I think he did, and I'm going make sure he pays for it. But first I'm going to teach his yankie friend a lesson he won't forget," he growled threateningly. 

Ray had begun to move backwards, but he ran up against a dead end as he collided with a locker. Corporal Kennett grinned evilly, and slowly advanced on the smaller man. The Corporal's fist connected with the locker as Ray ducked the first blow. Cursing loudly, the Mountie bent double cradling his fist. Seizing his opportunity, Ray quickly slipped past the man, running straight into the other two officers, who had positioned themselves at the end of the aisle. They grabbed the detective, and held him firmly by his arms. Ray tried to wriggle out of their grip, but they held on tightly. Simon whispered menacingly in his ear. "And where do you think you're going my little friend?"

Ray struggled against their grip as he saw Corporal Kennett ambling down the aisle towards them. He stopped in front of Ray, and thrust his head forward. "I'm going to make you so sorry that you're Fraser's friend." Without warning, he brought his fist up, hitting the detective hard in the face. Gasping Ray shook his head, and wrestled against the secure hold on his arms trying to twist his body away in an attempt to protect his still tender right side. The next blow caught him in the stomach, and he cried out in pain. "Not so tough now," the Corporal laughed as he hit Ray in the stomach again. The arms let him go, and he slumped to the floor. He screamed in agony as a Mountie boot kicked him in the right side catching him just above his appendix scar. He curled his body up, which earned him a kick in the back. 

"Oh God, please help me someone. Help me." Ray fought to remain conscious. 

"I would be grateful if you would back away from Detective Vecchio, and move towards the wall. Put your hands on your heads," Fraser motioned to the three Mounties with a standard issue revolver. The officers hesitated. "I will use this if I have to," he said pointing the gun downwards, firing just in front of their feet. The three Mounties backed towards the wall slowly raising their hands to their heads. Covering the three men with the gun, he knelt down besides his partner. "Ray. Can you hear me?" he shook his friend gently.

Ray peered up. Through the mist of pain, he thought he saw Fraser with a gun in his hand. "No, can't be. Fraser don't carry a gun," he closed his eyes losing his battle against the darkness.

*************

Ray cautiously opened his eyes. He lifted his head, and immediately wished he hadn't because the room started to spin. His right side felt like it was on fire, and his back ached. He shifted position to try and ease the pain. 

"Ray," Fraser whispered quietly putting his hand on his friend's arm. "Lay still."

Ray turned his head towards the familiar voice. "Where am I?"

"In the Emergency Room of Toronto Central Hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

His blurry vision clearing, Ray smiled weakly at Fraser. "Yeh, I was trying to forge American - Canadian relationships."

Fraser chuckled. "I see you are still having trouble with the Bi-Lingualism."

Ray gave his partner his best dirty look. "Serves me right for thinking all Mounties are polite like you. What happened to the three stooges anyway?"

"I arrested them," Fraser stated simply.

"Sorry Frase," Ray turned his head away guiltily.

"Sorry for what Ray? Sorry for being beaten? Sorry for trying to help me? Sorry for being my friend?" Fraser uttered with a hint of anger in his voice.

"No Fraser. Sorry for messing things up. I wanted to help you like you are always helping me. And because I screwed up, you had to arrest some Mounties. I was trying to help, and all I've done is isolate you even more," Ray bit his bottom lip to stop the tears that threatened.

Fraser squeezed his partner's arm. "No you haven't Ray. I know you were trying to help me. Corporal Lindsay accused me of being a disgrace to the uniform, but in fact it his friends who have dishonoured the R.C.M.P. by beating you because of your friendship with me. It is me who should be sorry for the behaviour of my countrymen."

"Huh, so we're both sorry. Tell you what, let's call it quits," Ray muttered. Fraser smiled and nodded. Suddenly remembering, "Am I going crazy, or did I see you with a gun?" 

Fraser stifled a grin. "Yes Ray, as you know I would be licensed to carry a weapon in Canada. Not knowing what kind of trouble you were going to get yourself into, it seemed prudent." 

"Seems kinda funny. You know, you with the gun," Ray struggled to sit up. Gasping in pain, he gritted his teeth grasping the edge of the bed with his hands turning his knuckles white. 

Fraser stepped forward concerned. "Ray, I really think you should remain lying down. The doctor assured me that you have suffered no internal damage, just severe bruising and a possible concussion. However, I think it would be wise for you to stay here for a couple of days just in case."

"No Frase. I want outta here," Ray gasped as he swung his legs off the bed. He clutched his side with his hand taking deep breaths. "Well are you gonna help me or not?" he asked.

"Ray," Fraser scolded.

"Look, who's gonna look after yer, if I'm stuck here," Ray said tentatively putting his feet to the ground. The room spun, and he swayed slightly. Fraser moved closer and caught his partner, steadying him.

*************

Fraser failed in his attempt to persuade Ray to stay in the hospital, but despite his protests that he was fine, the detective leaned heavily on Fraser as the Mountie hailed them a taxi. Once back in their hotel room, Ray sat down heavily on one of the beds. He groaned in pain, and Fraser moved closer concerned. "Ray, you look terrible. I think you should be in the hospital. Let me take you back, please," he pleaded.

"Nah, I'm good. I'd rather be here. I don't like hospitals, they smell funny. I'll be fine after a good night's sleep, really I will," Ray answered.

Fraser didn't look convinced. Sighing he moved over to the night stand. "I'll order us some supper." He dialled room service, turning back to ask his partner what he wanted to eat. Ray had slumped sideways on the bed. Dropping the telephone, Fraser quickly moved over to his partner. Ray was breathing evenly murmuring as he slept. Relieved Fraser gently swung Ray's legs onto the bed carefully removing his boots. Taking the blanket off his bed, he tucked it around his friend. Moving one of the chairs closer to the bed, he made himself comfortable to keep watch on his sleeping friend. Fraser woke with a start at the sound of the shower running. He stretched his long legs, and got up to open the curtains. He blinked as the morning sun filled the room.

"Morning Fraser," Ray came out of the bathroom rubbing his blonde hair with a towel. 

Fraser couldn't help noticing the ugly bruises on his partner's slim torso. "Good morning Ray. How are you feeling today?" he drew in a breath as his partner turned to pick up a t-shirt. A large blueishblack bruise extended across Ray's lower back, accentuating the paleness of his skin.

"A bit stiff, but I'm good Frase. Cmon get a shower, and let's go and prove you innocent." Fraser hesitated, tilting his head to one side staring at his partner intently. "Stop giving me that look. Been hurt worse. All I care about now is getting you off the hook. OK?" Fraser continued to stare. "Look it only hurts when I laugh so don't go telling me any Mountie jokes," Ray teased trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Fraser's lips curled at the edges slightly. "I'll do my very best Ray."

**************

The partners met Inspector Farrell and Sergeant Woodhead as they entered the R.C.M.P. Headquarters. The Inspector scowled at Fraser. "Constable, I expressly ordered you to stay at your hotel. What are you doing here?"

Before Fraser could answer Ray stepped in front of the Inspector. "Look lady, Fraser didn't kill anyone. And this Chicago flatfoot is going to prove it. Dot it, file it, stick it in a box marked done," he shouted pointing his finger in the Inspector's face. 

"Ray, Ray, Ray. Don't point at the Inspector," Fraser said pulling at his partner's arm.

"Detective Vecchio, I have three Mounties in custody due to your actions. For your own safety, you are to keep out of this investigation. Do I have to remind you that you have no jurisdiction in Canada. I will have no hesitation in sending you back to Chicago on the next plane," Inspector Farrell threatened glaring at Ray.

Ray returned the stare. "I didn't ask them to use me as a punch bag. They chose to beat me because I'm Fraser's friend. Because I seem to be the only one who believes he is innocent," he snapped back angrily.

Fraser quickly intervened. "Inspector, we have only come back here to collect my fencing equipment which I left in the locker room. It is quite valuable, and I promise that we will return to the hotel as soon as I have retrieved my belongings."

The Inspector pondered for a moment. "Very well Constable. I will contact you later as I have some more questions to ask you. I trust that you will keep your partner out of any further trouble," the Inspector signalled to Sergeant Woodhead, and the two women left the building.

Fraser put his hand on Ray's arm, steering him towards the back of the building. "Ray, please calm down. It will do no good if you antagonise the Inspector and she sends you back to Chicago. Then who will help me. Oh, and thank you kindly."

"For what," Ray asked puzzled.

"For being my friend. For believing me. For helping me. For shouting at the Inspector," Fraser answered a smile playing on his lips.

Ray grinned, "Any time Frase." Stopping suddenly, Ray looked in horror at his partner. "Hey, you just lied. I just remembered your fencing gear is back at the hotel." 

Fraser looked guilty. "Yes. Well, no not really. I did actually leave my glove in the locker room.

**************

Ray sat wearily on a bench while Fraser went in search of his missing glove. Closing his eyes a thought suddenly struck him. "Missing glove. Why didn't I see it before," he jumped up and went in search of Fraser. He found his partner kneeling at the spot Lindsay's body had been found. "Frase," he whispered.

Fraser looked up at him tears glinted in his eyes. "Ray, I didn't kill him. I couldn't kill anyone. He hated me, but I wouldn't kill him in revenge for his uncle murdering my father," he choked looking back at the floor.

"I know Fraser. I believe you. I know you didn't kill anyone," Ray soothed putting his hand on the Mountie's shoulder. Ray started to pace up and down the room. "You know something just struck me a moment ago. Sergeant Woodhead showed you a glove that they found near the body. It wasn't yours, it belonged to a left hander. Right?"

"Yes Ray, but I don't see the significance," Fraser stood up looking puzzled.

Ray put his hand up. "Frase, just let me ramble for a moment. I watched Corporal Lindsay fence and he was right-handed so it follows that the glove aint his. So, there's a good chance it might belong to whoever killed him. Right?"

"Well I suppose....," Fraser started.

Ray took a deep breath knowing that what he was about to say would hurt his partner. "When I came back here on my own, I bumped into your buddy Michael coming out of the locker room. He looked kinda shifty. Said he was looking for something he had lost. Then the three stooges just happened to come along and jump Bogart all over me. Kind of a freaky co-incidence, don't you think?" 

"No," Fraser shouted vehemently. "No Ray. I know Michael, we were partners. He would no more kill anyone than I could. You're accusing him because you don't like him." He turned his back on his partner fighting to control his rising rage.

Ray looked at his partner astonished at the rare display of temper. "Look Fraser just listen to me. I know he's your friend, and he was your partner. But I noticed that he behaves sorta funny. You know kinda strung out all the time. I've seen that kind of behaviour before. Before I took up this assignment, I was seconded to the Drugs Squad for six months. And he acts, well he acts like he's on something. I've been watching him fence this week, and he's.... Well he's left-handed," he finished. "And for the record, I would never accuse someone of murder just because I didn't like them. You should know me better than that by now."

Fraser whirled on his friend bringing his arm up making a fist, his whole body tense. Ray had never seen his partner look so angry. He shivered, and nervously took a step backwards, "Hey Fraser if you're gonna hit me, could you please hit me where I aint got a bruise already." 

Fraser saw the look of fear cross his partner's face, and he immediately dropped his arm to his side, the look of anger immediately leaving his eyes. He sat down heavily on a bench, putting his head in his hands. "Oh Ray, I almost struck you," he trembled.

Ray breathed a sigh of relief. "Well you didn't. And anyway, you'd have a job to find a bit of me that aint black or blue for that matter."

"Ray that is irrelevant. I almost hit my best friend," Fraser looked up to see Ray grinning at him. He relaxed slightly smiling weakly back, "And I know you better than you think." 

Ray sat down next to Fraser. "Sorry Frase. I didn't mean to accuse your friend. Crazy Kowalski getting it all wrong again. You know me full of instincts no logic whatsoever. Pretty thin evidence anyway so that puts us back to square one." He leaned back against the wall closing his eyes unconsciously bringing his arm up to his right side. 

Fraser noticed the movement. "Ray are you alright?" he asked immediately concerned.

"Mmmm Fraser. Just a bit sore. I'm fine." 

Fraser stood up. "I'll go and find you some painkillers. I won't be a minute." Ray kept his eyes closed, trying to concentrate on something else other than the nagging pain in his side and back.

"You know for a Chicago flatfoot, you're pretty sharp. But then, you're not like Ben blinded by a sense of fair play and loyalty," a voice announced from behind a locker. Ray opened his eyes startled as Michael appeared pointing a revolver at him. "I counted on Fraser's sense of misguided loyalty. He'd never suspect a friend. What I didn't reckon on was him having a friend like you. One who wouldn't give up until he proved his friend's innocence," he waved the gun at Ray. "Ben's a lucky man."

Ray couldn't believe his eyes. He stiffened feeling angry that this man could betray Fraser's friendship and trust. Ignoring his aching body, Ray sprung up towards the Mountie. Surprised that the smaller man could move so fast, Michael fired in panic at the advancing detective. Ray sensed the bullet whistle past him, feeling a stinging pain in his upper arm. He stumbled, and Michael grabbed him roughly pulling him up, locking the detective's head in the crook of his elbow. Pressing the gun into Ray's neck he snarled "Now we wait for Ben." 

Fraser on hearing the shot had run back into the locker room. Cautiously, he edged down the aisles and peered carefully around the last locker. Michael had his arm clamped around his partner, his gun pressed at Ray's neck. His partner looked pale, and blood was running down his right arm. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out from his hiding place. Michael," he uttered.

"Ahh Ben. You've come to join us at last." Fraser tentatively took a step closer. "No Ben. Don't come any closer, or I'll kill him now," he pressed the gun harder into Ray's neck.

Fraser stood still. "Ray was right wasn't he? You killed Corporal Lindsay didn't you? I can't believe you could kill someone in cold blood. Not you. We were friends. Partners."

Michael laughed harshly. "Oh Ben. You are so.... so innocent, so naive. You see good in everyone. You chose to ignore the badness in the world. You live your life blind to the ugliness surrounding you. Lindsay was blackmailing me. Bleeding me dry. He had to die."

Fraser looked distressed. "But why? You're a good officer. You could have reported him. The Michael I know would never take another life."

Michael snorted, looking at the ceiling, "Oh, Ben, Ben. I'm not him anymore. I'm a different Michael. One you wouldn't like." He waved the gun at Fraser, "You want me to tell you why Mr. Perfect Mountie."

Fraser looked at his feet. "Yes, I would like to understand. To help."

"Oh yes, you would want to help, wouldn't you? But I'm beyond all help, even yours," Michael glared at Fraser. 

"But...," Fraser started to say.

Michael pointed the gun at Fraser, "Shut up. Just shut up. Your partner here was right. I fell in with the wrong crowd, and got hooked on drugs. I need them to make me feel like a somebody. Lindsay caught me and has been blackmailing me for two long years. He wanted more money, more than I could afford. So I went to the locker room to beg. He just laughed at me. But I stopped him laughing. He'll never laugh at me again." He stifled a cry. "Do you want to know the best of it Ben. I don't feel guilty. I'm glad that he's dead. I'm glad I killed him."

Fraser took another step forward. "I can't believe that you have changed that much. I won't... I can't believe that you enjoyed killing Corporal Lindsay." 

"No, don't come any closer. Just stay where you are. I don't care what you believe," Michael screamed. Ray struggled against the grip, but Michael tightened his hold, squeezing harder against Ray's throat. 

"Michael, please. Please you're hurting him," Fraser pleaded seeing the distress etched on Ray's face.

Michael ignored him, madness glinting in his eyes. "You know Ben. You made it so easy coming into the locker room when you did. All I had to do was knock you out. I knew they would suspect you. I knew they'd think you gotten your revenge for your father's murder. I lost my glove, but I figured I was still in the clear. But then your partner here," he dug Ray in the side with the gun causing the detective to groan. "Started poking about and shouting that you were innocent. I was afraid he would convince other people, so I had to stop him. I told Kennett he was in the locker room, and I knew Kennett and his buddies would beat him up to get back at you. I was hoping that they would shut him up permanently."

Fraser shook his head in disbelief, shock showing on his face. The man who stood in front of him was not the Michael he knew. The Michael that had befriended the lonely recruit from the North West Territories. Fraser tried to suppress a shiver; he felt betrayed. All the good times they had shared were gone, lost somewhere in the past. Fraser recognised sadly that they had been lost the moment Michael had taken his first shot of drugs. He forced his attention back to the locker room. He could see that Ray looked paler, his breathing ragged as Michael squeezed tighter on his throat. 

Fraser moved forward slightly concerned for his partner. "Please Michael. You're hurting him. Please let him go," Fraser begged.

Michael softened his voice. "As you asked so nicely, Ben. I won't kill him just yet," Michael released his arm lock slightly. 

Seizing the opportunity, Ray twisted his body to the side managing to free one of his arms, jabbing his elbow hard into Michael's ribs. Simultaneously, he made a fist which he slammed backwards connecting with the unsuspecting Mountie's face. Staggering backwards, Michael yelped in pain releasing the detective who slumped to the floor. The gun fell from his hand, and slid across the floor towards Fraser. Regaining his balance, Michael wiped his bloodied nose on his sleeve and realising he was unarmed quickly withdrew a hunting knife from his scabbard. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ray shakily getting to his feet. Moving swiftly, Michael grabbed the detective by his injured arm making Ray cry out in pain. Dragging the detective backwards, he locked his arm once again around Ray's neck. Struggling against the grip, Ray whimpered as the Mountie pulled his arm tightly back against his wind pipe. 

"You are under arrest for the murder of Corporal Nick Lindsay. Please put the knife down and release Detective Vecchio," Fraser calmly announced pointing the gun towards Michael, taking a step closer.

Michael laughed. "Oh you won't shoot me. If you move one step closer, I'll slit your partner's throat. I've nothing to lose," he pushed the knife to Ray's neck.

"I can assure you, I will use force against you, if I have to," Fraser maintained. 

Michael beamed wickedly. "I know you won't shoot me. Your misguided sense of loyalty won't let you shoot a friend, and you won't risk me hurting your friend. I know you. We were partners once, and I can read you like a book. You are just too good to be true."

Fraser's hand started to shake, and sweat gathered on his forehead. He took another step forward. He swallowed, "Please don't make me shoot you."

"Go on Ben. Take a risk for a change. Go on risk it. Risk that I won't kill your little friend before you pluck up the courage to shoot me," Michael taunted as Fraser dropped his arm slowly back to his side. "God, Scott Kennett was right, you are yellow." Fraser hung his head in despair.

"Fraser. Shoot him. I trust you. Just shoot him," Ray managed to shout. 

Ray's words shocked him into action. Snapping his head up, he saw the look of trust in his friend's clear blue eyes. Bringing his arm back up, he aimed and fired. A look of surprise crossed Michael's face as the bullet struck him in the left shoulder. Gasping in pain, he dropped the knife falling over backwards pulling Ray with him. As he hit the floor, Michael made a grab for the knife, but Fraser quickly moved forwards kicking the knife clear of his hand. Michael struggled to sit up, and he held his hand to his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. Fraser was trembling, and he silently stared at the man covering him with the gun. 

Shaking his head, he slowly moved forwards, handcuffing the Mountie's good arm to a locker handle. He turned towards Ray, who was leaning against the wall his eyes tightly closed, "Ray. Are you alright? Ray, Ray," he gently shook his partner.

"Yeh, give me a minute Frase," Ray focused on Fraser, who extended his arm gently pulling his partner to his feet. Ray swayed, leaning on his friend for support.

Fraser helped Ray over to a bench, handing him the gun. "Will you be alright here while I go and get some help?" 

"Yeh. Just don't be too long," Ray mumbled.

"Oh Ray. And this time I will have my way. You are going to hospital, and you are staying there for a few days, " Fraser said firmly. Ray smiled weakly resigned to the fact that Fraser would get his way on this occasion.

Fraser started to walk towards the door, but stopped as Michael shouted after him, "Seems you learned a lot in Chicago Ben. Never thought you would shoot me. Didn't think you had it in you." 

Looking down at the man who had been his friend, tears glinting in his eyes. "Oh yes Michael. I learned about partnership and true friendship." Michael looked up confused, and Fraser nodded in Ray's direction, "I learned it from a man who lets me endanger his life in wildly bizarre ways. But he still trusts me, asks nothing of me, and rewards me with his friendship." 

**************

Fraser sat in the reception of the hotel waiting for Ray. He pondered on the events of the past few days. Ray had decided not to press charges against Corporal Kennett and his friends. The Mounties had been reduced in rank and posted to Kamloops, British Columbia. Michael Gordon had been charged with first degree murder, attempted murder and assault. Fraser felt saddened that Michael would be spending the rest of his life in prison. Corporal Nick Lindsay had been buried with full honours, but Fraser could not bring himself to attend the funeral.

"Hey Frase. Ready to go," Fraser looked up as his partner hurried towards him. Despite his partner's loud protests, the doctors had insisted that he spend a week in the hospital. His right arm was still in a sling, and his body still displayed an array of different coloured bruises, but Fraser noted with a smile that Ray was full of his usual nervous energy. 

"Hey come on lazy Mountie. Anyone would think you were on vacation," Ray teased. 

Ray headed for the door holding it open; he bowed slightly as Fraser stepped out onto the street. The Mountie produced a small pocket book. "Now let's see. I have drawn up an itinerary in order that we use our time effectively. First, we will visit the C.N. Tower, the world's highest observation deck at 1700 feet high. Then we will move onto Fort York and Casa Loma. Finally, we will walk up Yonge Street. Did you know it's 1,190 miles long?" he asked looking at his friend.

Ray looked at Fraser in exasperation snatching the book from his friend's hands. "No Frase. We are on vacation, and we don't have to keep to a timetable. That's the whole point of a vacation. We will relax and take it as it comes."

"But Ray," Fraser started to protest.

Ray put his good hand on his hip. "Look Fraser, you told Michael that I trusted you, and asked nothing in return. Well now I'm asking you to trust me. We'll have much more fun if we don't plan."

"Understood." Fraser said as he happily followed Ray up the street.

THE END


End file.
